


Either for the First or Last Time

by terraces



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Awkwardness, Book Lover!Dan, Clumsiness, Getting Together, Librarian AU, Librarian!Phil, M/M, Oneshot, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 11:57:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7891174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terraces/pseuds/terraces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Librarian!Phil is annoyed when a man (quite literally) runs into him on the underground. But then he notices that the man smells like books, and he's really cute. </p><p>And then the situation gets a whole lot weirder, because it's hard to remember that going over and sniffing someone is not an acceptable way to introduce yourself.  Even if the person is  hot. Maybe especially if he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Either for the First or Last Time

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from 'A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,' which I adore. I feel like it makes this sound really dramatic, but it's really a cute little oneshot (I hope).
> 
> This fic was written because of the perfume that smells like books, which I have never smelled because it's really expensive. But if someone came up to me wearing it, I would propose on the spot. So there's that.
> 
> I did this instead of my homework please love me.

Phil froze. He had been sitting and staring at his phone, minding his own business, and then suddenly there was a shoulder in his face and a knee pressing into his leg and what the actual–

“Oh my god, f– I am so sorry,” the owner of the appendages was babbling. “I didn't mean to–”

“If you could remove your shoulder from my face,” Phil said acidly, voice slightly muffled, “It would be appreciated.” He was becoming very well acquainted with the shoulder, which was perfectly nice as shoulders go. It had a weirdly comforting smell that he couldn’t quite place. 

The person hurriedly withdrew. “I am so sorry,” he said, blushing furiously, and wow. Okay. Phil was suddenly a little less annoyed by this mystery man on the Underground. “I'm so clumsy, honestly, and I swear I didn't mean to get all up in your space, I just… I don't know.”

“It's okay, really,” Phil said. “I’m pretty clumsy too. Seems I can't go a day without falling up the stairs or something.”

The man grinned at that, and those dimples were going to give Phil a heart attack. “Anyway, sorry for tripping into you, I’ll leave you to your peace and quiet.”

“As peaceful and quiet as it gets on the Underground,” Phil said, and the man smiled and moved off. Phil got one last whiff of whatever that smell was, and then the man was gone, sitting a ways down the carriage. Phil sighed internally. Sure, it had been a while since he’d been with anyone, but surely he hadn’t progressed to the stage of crushing on random strangers because they smelled nice. And had a pretty smile. And adorable dimples, and Phil’s traitorous brain needed to stop thinking right now.

It wasn’t until he walked through the front doors of his beloved library, breathing in the comforting smell of old books, that he realized. And then he was tempted to go and find the man and propose on the spot, because why would the man smell like books and paper and Phil’s favorite place on earth?

That afternoon, he mentioned it to Julia, who was working the checkout counter with him.

“A complete stranger violated your personal space on the Underground?” she laughed. “You have my condolences.”

“It was okay,” Phil said. “I didn’t mind, and he didn’t seem creepy.”

“Everyone on the Underground is creepy, Phil.”

“Hey, my mum rides the Underground!” Phil said. “And so do I!”

“Your point?” Julia asked, grinning.

“Did you just call my mum creepy?” Phil asked, indignant. “My mum’s not creepy, your mum is!”

“Glad to see your retorts have matured past primary school.”

“Shut up.”

“You just keep proving my points, don’t you?” Julia laughed. And then the woman waiting for Phil to check out her books cleared her throat, and he had to get back to work.

–––

Phil didn’t see the man the next day, or the next. He didn’t admit it, even to himself, but he was just a bit disappointed. All he wanted was to ask the man why he smelled like books, which was a perfectly innocuous question, right? 

But on the third day,when the mystery man with the brown eyes stepped into his carriage and sat down across from him, the words died in his throat. When he thought about it, “Why do you smell like that?” was a very odd and potentially stalker-ish question to ask a stranger, right up there with, “Where do you sleep?” and “So, tell me your entire life story.” Not that Phil would ask any of those things, because he was a non-stalker-ish and perfectly normal human. But he couldn’t think of anything to say, and studiously avoided eye contact with the man for the entirety of the ride. 

They exited the train at the same station, which was okay. A lot of people went through this station. But the man (who Phil had decided to call Winston: he just looked like a Winston, and Phil couldn’t keep calling him “hot mystery man from the Underground) kept taking the turns Phil was taking, and Phil didn’t care except it kind of looked like he was following him, and it was kind of (okay, really) awkward. For Phil, anyway. Winston probably didn’t care: he’d probably forgotten about Phil the moment he stepped away from him three days ago. And then Winston turned left where Phil was turning right, and Phil breathed a sigh of relief (and honestly, a bit of disappointment.)

Julia laughed at him when he told her about it over lunch. “So now you’re following the poor man into the street!” she teased. “Honestly, give him some space.”

“I thought you said he was creepy!” Phil protested.

“Well, you’re not denying following him, so maybe it’s not him that’s creepy.”

“I was getting around to it, okay? And it’s perfectly normal for two people to get off at the same station.”

“I would like you to know that I am refraining from making the obvious joke here with some difficulty,” she said with a grin. Phil thought for a moment, then blushed and threw a potato chip at her.

“Not what I meant, and you know that,” he scolded, and she laughed.

“But it’s so much more fun to pretend I don’t!”

–––

Winston sat next to him the next day. It didn’t mean anything, of course it didn’t mean anything: the rest of the seats were full, and it wasn’t like he was swearing his undying love to Phil. 

But Phil sat very still for the entire ride, staring out the window like the answers to all of life’s questions were written on the tunnel walls. Winston still smelled of books, fainter now that Phil’s face wasn’t pressed into his shoulder. Phil took shallow breaths so it wouldn’t seem like he was sniffing him, and then overly deep breaths when he realized the shallow ones might look weird. 

Winston was wearing all black again, and looked amazing, and Phil was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush but he couldn’t stop. And then the ride (mercifully) ended, and Phil practically ran down the street to escape.

When he related this to Julia, with most of the inner monologuing removed, she didn’t laugh. Instead, she stared at him quizzically, and then with a growing grin. Phil hid his face in his hands. He knew that smile well.

“You like him,” Julia said triumphantly.

“Of course I don’t like him. I don’t even know the man.”

“Oh, of course. That’s why you get that dopey smile when you talk about him, and you know how he smells, and that his dimples are adorable, and his smile is pretty, and you’ve given him a name in your head. But no, not at all, you’re just being friendly. No crushes to be had here.”

“I don’t– he doesn’t– shut up, okay?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Julia said. “Just a word of advice, though: try talking to him before you go all doe-eyed. He might really be creepy, or straight, or married.”

“You know, ‘doe-eyed’ doesn’t actually indicate romantic interest.” Phil said. “It actually refers to big, dark eyes, like those a doe might have, and would really be better to describe Winston than me. He has these big dark brown–”

“Phil,” Julia said, “I love you like a brother, but if you don’t stop talking about Winston for a minute and get to shelving those books, I will hit you over the head with one.”

“Sorry,” Phil said, and got to it.

–––

Winston wasn’t there the next day, or maybe he was on a different carriage. Phil resisted the urge to move down the train to look for him, and wow, maybe he was moving into stalker territory here. But what harm could it do? It wasn’t like he was ever going to actually talk to him.

It was midmorning, and Phil was working the checkout counter when Winston walked into the library. Phil almost stopped breathing, and Julia looked over concernedly. 

“Is everything alright?”

“That– that’s him. Over there,” he managed.

“Blue shirt, dark hair? Tall?” she asked quietly. Phil nodded. “I was giving you grief for crushing on him, but damn. Wonder if he’s single.”

“Julia!” Phil hissed, and she giggled.

“Sorry, sorry, I know he’s yours. But if he doesn’t swing that way–”

“He’s coming over here, shut up,” Phil muttered urgently, and she did.

To Phil’s disappointment, Winston approached Julia’s desk. “Sorry, I wanted to ask about a book I had on hold.”

Julia smiled. “I apologize, I was just going on break. Phil over there can help you with your book.” She indicated toward Phil, and Winston glanced over, eyes widening slightly. When he looked away, Phil glared at Julia, and she winked. Phil sighed. Could she be any more obvious?

“So, um, hi,” Winston said. He didn’t smell like books from here, but maybe it was just the library.

“Hi,” Phil said, and then stopped, mind blank. After a too-long pause, he continued, “So, is there anything I can do for you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Winston said. “I have a book on hold, and I got an email that it was in.”

“Name?”

“Dan Howell.” Dan. That was better. He looked like a Dan.

“I meant the book, but that works too.”

Dan smiled. “It’s ‘People of the Book’. I think the author is Brooks something, I don’t remember.”

“Geraldine Brooks.”

“You’ve read it?”

“Only the first part,” Phil said. “I was listening to the audiobook, but never got around to finishing it.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Oh, immensely.”

Dan smiled again, and dimples: part two was going to be the death of Phil. “I’m glad you liked it. Someone recommended it to me, and it sounded really good.” 

“Oh, totally.” There was a pause. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“I don’t think so, just the book,” Dan said, and paused. “I wanted to apologize again about the train thing. I was in a hurry, and clumsy, and I’m very very sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Phil said. “My favorite thing is being groped by strangers on the Underground.”

Dan blushed. “I didn’t grope you, at least I think I didn’t. But if I did, I’m really sorry.”

“Relax, I’m teasing you,” Phil said. “Like I said, I’m clumsy too. I fall for people all the time.”

“Run into people, you mean?” Dan asked slyly, and now it was Phil who was blushing.

“That’s what I meant, of course,” he said weakly. “Run into people. Guess my tongue’s clumsy as well.”

For some unfathomable reason, Dan blushed at this, and Phil went to get the book before he could embarrass himself further.

When Dan was gone, Julia rushed back over. 

“So, how was it?”

“Like checking out a book for anyone else, Julia. Nothing happened.” Except for Phil hideously embarrassing himself, but he wouldn’t tell her that. It would only give her teasing fodder for the next month.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “No professions of undying love?”

“Nope.”

“No rose petals, cherry blossoms trembling in the wind, or fireworks-inducing eye contact?”

“None at all. And since when does eye contact set off fireworks?”

“You’re killing me here, Lester.”

–––

It was almost a week before Phil saw Dan Howell again. He seemed to have vanished from the Underground, and Phil had resigned himself to the fact that that was the end of their epic love story: running into one another, avoiding eye contact for a few days, and then one ordinary, awkward conversation. Truly, a tale for the ages. 

But then, one afternoon, Dan walked into the library with his book, and Phil cursed his heart for leaping into his throat. He headed directly for Phil.

“Hey, Phil,” he said.

“Here to return the book? Did you like it?”

“Loved it,” Dan said fervently. “Brilliant transitions, and such a creative concept, you know?”

“Totally,” Phil said, putting the book aside to check in later. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“Yes, actually,” Dan said. “Do you have any recommendations? I’m not exactly running low on reading material, but I’ve overdosed on old science fiction lately, and I need a break.”

“Old science fiction?” Phil asked, intrigued.

“My aunt died a few months ago, and she left me her boxes and boxes of science fiction and fantasy novels. I’ve been going through them, but there’s only so much time in the day, you know?”

“I’m sorry about your aunt,” Phil said.

“Thank you. She lived a good, long, book-filled life.” 

“I really loved ‘A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,’ if you’re in the mood for historical fiction,” Phil said. “It’s American, really moving, kind of dark, but it’s still hopeful. You fall in love with the characters immediately.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dan said. “Do you guys have it?”

“I’ll get it for you,” Phil said, which okay, he technically wasn’t supposed to do, but he could make an exception this once. He retrieved it quickly. Too soon, the book was checked out, and Dan was hurrying away, out the big double doors and into the street. Phil blinked. Had he said something wrong, that Dan would want to escape his presence that badly?

But when he opened the front cover of ‘People of the Book,’ he knew exactly why Dan had hurried.

–––

That evening, Phil sat on the couch, staring at his phone. He didn’t think he could do it. His heart was beating too fast, and his breaths were too quick, and he had better do it now before he inevitably lost his nerve. 

Dan answered on the first ring.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, that "exchanging book recommendations" scene was the hottest I have ever written. Maybe I should change the rating.
> 
> Comments and kudos make my insecure little brain very happy!


End file.
